Torchbearer
by inkdragon13
Summary: Ratchet can't bear the weight of the war anymore and wants some time alone. But, as Arcee knows all too well, what you want isn't always what you truly need. Chapter Three: Ratchet makes a shocking discovery aboard a crashed star ship that may be of more harm than hope.
1. Chapter 1

**I was hit by inspiration! Okay, this is my... third Transformers Prime fanfic, so don't use a flame thrower on me. I'm still a bit new to this area. This is in Ratchet's POV. I don't own Transformers Prime and I am not making money off this. **

**Well, let's roll!**

Nothing particularly note-worthy took place today. The Decepticons were relatively quiet and there was time to leisure around the base. Since everyone had just arrived back at the missile silo from patrol, all the bots hovered around in the main room, conversing with one another and the humans. For once, I didn't mind it. I normally put a bot to work if I see them just standing around near the Ground Bridge controls, but I felt like they deserved a break from work. I already cleaned and sorted my tools and recalibrated the Ground Bridge's coordinating systems, as well as took an inventory on the supply vault. I glanced up from the wrench I was cleaning (granted, it was already clean) and looked at the socializing bots and humans. Miko was talking to Bulkhead about a new heavy metal artist she had discovered. Bumblebee and Rafael chatted about a recent video game car race. Jack was explaining human behavior to a perplexed Arcee and Optimus silently oversaw it all off to the side.

They all seem so happy with one another. After all this time they have finally found some sort of true happiness. A way to get their processors off the war we all were fighting. This war is starting to swallow our species up. One by one, both sides are killing each other off. Back on Cybertron, during the Golden Age, our species was large and strong. We didn't have to worry about anyone capturing or killing someone for the sake of energon. Energon was plentiful, even the poor in our society did not have to constantly worry about running low on the precious liquid.

But, the war broke out. Time sped by as all Cybertronians watched our planet take the beating and dim slowly. People were terminated, so many of them were unarmed civilians. Energon was stocked and hoarded by Autobots and Decepticons alike. Mechs and femmes who refused to fight in the war, attempted to lead a normal life in the midst of war. That always ended in their termination. I once came across a young mech hiding with his little sparkling after the building was raided by the Decepticons. The carrier of the little one was offlined trying to distract the Decepticons. The sire hid with the newborn sparkling and was found by me. The Autobots took them and managed to get them back to a healthy state.

Physically, anyway. The young sire couldn't handle the death of his sparkmate and terminated himself. I raised the sparkling myself for only half a vorn until she slowly offlined, unable to handle the loss of her creators. Yet another example of how I couldn't help. Another example of how I failed. Another example of how I couldn't hold my word to the oath I took the solar cycle I became a medic.

"Old friend," Optimus said, concerned. He had walked over to me and placed a large black servo on my shoulder. Our leader must have noticed my blank stare.

"Is everything alright?" His optics dimmed a bit, holding optic contact with me. I looked away.

"Everything is fine, Optimus." It came out sharper than intended. Optimus looked almost hurt at the cutting response I gave him. His optics dimmed more to resemble a sort of clouded blue.

"If there is anything on your processor, you are welcome to speak with me about it." He said softly before retreating down the halls of the silo. Guilt racked me. How could I have taken this out on Optimus? He has lost just as much as the rest of us have, if not more. So many of his friends have gone missing in action or have been terminated by the Decepticons.

I gripped the wrench, driving small dents in the shining metal. How could I be so selfish? How could be so selfish as to not notice the sorrow on his faceplates that seemed to have welded itself there permanently? The bot had to bear a huge weight for all of us and the other Autobots that have not reached Earth and my behavior was only adding to it. How could I be so thoughtless?!

Thunder cracked loudly, making everyone, with the exception of myself, jump. We hadn't been getting much rain here in Nevada, even by their standards.

"Alright Miko, I have to get you home before you foster parents start to worry." Bulkhead told the young Japanese girl before collapsing into his alt mode, leaving no room for discussion. Miko groaned loudly in frustration but gathered her schoolwork and hopped in. Bumblebee and Arcee followed suit and gathered their humans for a ride home. Within moments, I was alone in the main room.

I could hear a calm shushing sound from the rain that had begun to pour from the dark grey clouds. I looked around the empty room, allowing the sound of the sad, steady rain fill my spark. There, I concluded that I needed time to think.

Away from the silo.

I punched in coordinates for the Ground Bridge that would take me deeper into the surrounding desert. The swirling green gate lit up, ushering me to my chosen destination. Not even bothering to transform, I walked on my pedes through the Ground Bridge tunnel.

**Okay, so how'd I do? Good? Bad? Terrible? If you saw anything grammatically wrong here, feel free to let me know. If you have any suggestions, let me know, as well.**


	2. Broken

**Hello my lovely readers! This starts in Arcee's POV and goes to Ratchet's. I don't own Transformers Prime and I am not making money off this. **

**Presenting, Torchbearer Chapter Two: Broken.**

I drove into the silo and transformed, shaking what rain I could off my frame. Bumblebee and Bulkhead had turned in early while I stayed out after dropping Jack off for my usual drive in the desert around Jasper. The silent night air offered peace and time for me to reflect, but my processor was elsewhere. Something was wrong.

I looked around the main control room. The harsh white lights were still on. Strange. As late as it is, Ratchet would have turned in for a night of recharge. And Ratchet _never_ left the lights on after he left.

Turning, I glanced at Ratchet's makeshift workbench. His favorite wrench was lying on top with a bright red cleaning rag on top of it. Another thing Ratchet never in a million years would do is leave his tools out. Something told me to look at the Ground Bridge control panel.

Hm. There were coordinates set in the system, but they only led deeper into the desert. Why would there be coordinates in the system? Even the Cons quieted down at night. There was literally nothing out there.

I vented. I guess I'm going after him.

...

I walked in the wet brown sand in the night rain, pedes sinking in a bit with every step. Movements became slightly stiff as sand grains got into my joints. I ignored it and kept on. Soon, I stopped and glared bitterly at a nearly bush.

Why me? Primus, _why_? I have failed so many... too many. I could have done more for that sparkling... I tightly shuttered my optics. Lightning flashed off in the distance as I roared my sorrow to the deaf, tearful clouds.

I could have saved her! Why didn't I form a sire bond with her when I had the chance?! Slowly, my roar dimmed down to a low growl.

When I found the sparkling with her sire, she didn't even have a name. I had to care for her after her sire fell into a violent depression, unable to handle the death of his sparkmate. I volunteered to be her caretaker. I even gave her a designation. She was the happiest little sparkling I had ever seen.

Why did she have to offline? I bent over backwards making sure that she had everything she needed and more. I laughed sadly. I even made her toys to play with while she was in the medbay with me. I held too tightly to hope. I hoped that her sire would recover under the care of the Autobots, when I knew somewhere in the dark parts of my spark that he never would.

The little sparkling reminded me that there was still a light at the end of the dark tunnel of war. That there was still hope. That I _must_ have hope.

Suddenly, one orn, all she would do is cry softly. No matter what I did, she would sob and cry gently. Late in the end of one solar cycle, I woke up to hear the little sparkling whimpering weakly. She was not sick and was not injured. Nothing was physically wrong with her but I knew something was not right. The little one was curled up next to me on my berth, tapping on my chestplates. Her optics were frighteningly dim when she gazed up at me. Those eyes were so sad and apologetic. Then, I knew. I knew I failed yet again.

Her time had come to be with Primus.

She weakly chirped and whirred at me. She hadn't seen the pure comfort of her creator's spark in a long time. Although I was not her creator, I would what I could for her. I parted my chestplates to reveal my spark and flared my EM field to comfort her, make her feel safe. Bathed in the warm bright light of my spark, she looked up at me and uttered her first and final word.

_"Sire."_

Then she slowly closed her optics and cycled air through her system once last time. For the next orn, I refused to leave my berthroom. I sat for hours, stroking her small helm, begging Primus for answer why. Begging him to put a small spot of light in this warzone. Everyone pleaded with me to come out. Even Sunstreaker and Sideswipe tried to get me to leave. However, their pleas only fell to deaf audio receptors.

Her funeral was short. I didn't want to linger on her memory. But, someone told me during the memorial that her sire had offlined himself the orn the little one became sick.

Anger greater than I had ever known wracked my frame, making my armor rattle. Had I formed a sire bond with her, she would have lived out the rest of her orns! Since then, no one mentioned her in my presence. Life resumed, normal as will ever get. I could put her out of my mind, as hard as I tried. I know I could have done more. I know there was a way! Someone should have told me the instant her sire killed himself. I would have gladly formed a sire bond with her!

The rain poured harder and thunder cracked above me as the rain came down harder. The Decepticons destroyed her grave site in a raid. Now, the only thing I have to remember her by in her drawing of her and myself, holding hands.

Emotions welled up to the point of overwhelming me. She's still there. She's still in my thoughts. I remember her happy little laugh when I tripped over my frame welder. I see her small, fragile form next to me on my berth, deep in recharge. I feel her optics watching me work with innocent curiosity. I can almost-

No. She's gone. There was NOTHING that I could have done. I stared out into the desert once more, watching the rain come down hard.

Suddenly, I heard something behind me. They were small footfalls. I vented angrily.

Arcee.

"Ratchet?" The little femme walked carefully up to me. I refused to look at her and stared farther into Earth's wilderness.

"What are you doing out here?" I gritted my denta.

"Go back to the base."

She crossed her arms over her chassis. "I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're out here in the rain." Lightning flashed again, illuminating the sky in a dead pale blue.

"Return. To. Base." I ground out. I can barely keep my true emotions down at this point. Despite my warning, Arcee pressed on, determined.

"Look, I know something's wrong. You can't hide something like this, whatever it is. I can tell it's really bothering you." She stepped in front of me and looked me in the optics. I never returned the look. I simply _can't_ tell her. I'd only open old sores that never completely healed properly.

I continued to look out at the barren desert. The wind picked up as I fought to keep that thin string that held my anger and regret under control from snapping.

"Ratchet... If... if you want to talk to me about it, I'll... be in my berthroom." With that, she transformed and raced back to the base. I stood there for a moment longer, listening to the soft shushing of the rain on the rocks and sand. The lightning had stopped and there was only the rain and the dark grey clouds.

Perhaps... perhaps I could take her up on that offer...

**So, what do you think? Good? Okay? Horrible? I felt a little depressed yesterday and had to do this. **

**If you got any suggestions for me, don't be shy! **


	3. Bittersweet

**Howdy, my readers! This is the third and final chapter of Torchbearer. Hope ya like it!**

Bittersweet

The next morning after my walk in the desert, only silence was shared between Arcee and me. That silence was not uncomfortable, but welcome. I worked on the monitor, while Arcee sat on one of my medical berths, reading a datapad. I never said a word to her last night when I returned. She knows I'm still keeping something from her but decided not to push it.

Those emotions I felt last night are all still there. My little walk solved nothing. I feel no better now than then. The storm is still waging, consuming me from the inside out like chronic rust. It was always there, unable to be cured, only covered. No one can help me with this, not even Primus. He cannot help this wound heal. I know I have failed many people... but to let my little sparkling's life slip from my grasp... How could I have done so?! I snarled wordlessly at the monitor, my burning hatred of myself spilling over.

Arcee jolted at me sudden, animalistic display but wisely chose not to question me about it. I vented. I had to calm myself before I broke something. No use in venting my frustrations on tools that I'm going to have to fix later. I shoved pleasant memories back into the vault at the back of my processor. That was the past. This is the present. I must look forward, not back. Looking behind me only invites future problems.

Heavy footfalls sounded in the halls, drawing closer to the main control room. I straightened and looked at our approaching leader.

"Ratchet. Arcee. How are you two this morning?"Even though Optimus' was steady and well controlled, you didn't have to be a doctor to tell that he needed more recharge.

"I'm fine. You?" Arcee responded casually. To both of our surprise, Optimus rubbed his optics.

"Tired." He admitted. I scoffed.

"Then what are you doing up? If you need some recharge, go get some recharge!" I frowned and glared. Primus, Optimus! Depriving yourself does not help anything!

"Ratchet, I must be ready at any given time, in case I am needed at a moment's notice."

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chassis. "You won't ever be ready if you offline because of recharge deprivation! At this point, I'm pulling rank over your command. As medical officer, I am telling you to go back to your berthroom and get some more recharge." Arcee gave me an incredulous look while Optimus gave a slight smile.

"Yes, _Mother_."My left optic twitched at the human term as our leader turned and headed back to his berthroom.

"Wow, Ratch'." Arcee stared at me, optics ridges raised.

The glitchhead apparently doesn't know the importance of recharge!" I ranted. Arcee shook her helm, smiling slightly.

"Who knew you could be such a mother hen. " I scoffed at the comment.

"I'm just doing my job, which is made much more difficult by you glitches. You all can't seem to stay _not _hurt!"

"You harm me, Ratchet. Right here." She placed a servo over her spark chamber, looking at me sarcastically. I scoffed again, but chose not to respond. I turned back to my work and perhaps two earth hours of silence passed before the monitor beeped loudly. There appeared to be a concentration of Decepticon activity near the southern end of Lake Michigan. The blue femme walked up to my left side.

"Why are the Decepticons in Chicago?"

I turned to look down at her. "Arcee-"

"I'm on it. I'll go wake up Sleeping Beauty." Bulkhead and Bumblebee were out, mostly likely on patrol after dropping the children off for school. Some days, Bumblebee gave Jack a ride to school, along with Rafael. I went over to the Ground Bridge controls and punched in the next set coordinates.

...

The sharp sound of the monitor tore me from my train of thought. I stood and looked at the screen. It was a distress signal! I scanned it to see if it contained a message only to hear gentle moans of pain. I investigated a bit more in transmission, to see if it held anymore information.

...By the AllSpark! I scrambled over to the Ground Bridge controls and pounded in new coordinates with swift, shaking servos. The Ground Bridge lit up and spun to life, giving off a soft green glow.

I must get over there as soon as possible!

...

I stepped cautiously through the forest. I have yet to find the vessel that crashed in the trees. Thankfully, the Decepticons seem to be occupied elsewhere. I have to find that ship before it's too late. The trees and leaves blocked the majority of my view, making the search increasingly frustrating.

Hopefully, I don't have too far to g-what was that? I listened harder, tuning my audio receptors to try and pick up the strange sound again. Then I heard it. It was the same moan I heard in the transmission back at the base! I bolted to my left, using my surgical blade to cut down the branches that were in my way.

Suddenly, I reached a clearing. There was a small ship, halfway buried in the soil, both engines smoking heavily. Metal shrapnel everywhere and the trees around the small vessel burned at the tips. My olfactory sensors picked up the scent of spilled energon coming from inside. I carefully pried open the door and headed for the cockpit.

I could hardly see in the darkness of the small room. How can there be a ship here, but no bot to pilot it? From what I could tell, the pillot of this vessel was mortally wounded. Perhaps they left to find help-no.

I gasped. No. It can't be...

"Are you alright?" I ran over and crouched down next to a femme. She had her back against the soot covered metal wall and her optics were so dim, it worried me. She moved her light green helm slightly to look at me. There was a huge stab wound next to her spark chamber, likely caused by flying metal launched in the crash. Other smaller but serious wounds riddled her slender frame. From what I could tell, using a very small amount of light coming from a hole in the ceiling, she was a flyer. I looked her over completely and was shocked by another discovery.

This femme in the final stages of carrying.

Her midsection was large and round, evidence that the sparkling she was carrying had a large frame type. The birth was going to be very difficult for her.

Springing into action, I moved in front of her and instructed her to spread her legs, preparing for the birth that was coming very soon. A pool of blue tinted fluid trickled out of her exposed valve as she ventilated hard. Her dirty face contorted in pain as contractions hit her repeatedly. I grabbed her servo, comforting her. I had not delivered a sparkling in a very long time, but some things you are taught in the medical field you don't ever forget.

"Alright, when the next contraction hits you, I want you to push." She strained to focus on me as the pain wracked her damaged and dented frame. I flared my EM field to comfort her once I felt her fear

"Alright," She whimpered in a barely audible voice. She squeezed my servo tightly and pushed.

...

The little sparkling chirped softly in my servos as I stared into her shining blue optics. She stared back at me with those enormous optics. They were so familiar in a frightening way. The vault in the back of my processor opened suddenly and I was hit with powerful emotions.

Hope for the future.

Failure in times past.

Hatred of the failures.

Passion for many things.

All of them hit me at once, making my pause to cycle air through my systems.

The sparkling passes with a clean bill of health and was rather chatty. Her carrier, however, was not faring well at all. I could not diagnose what exactly was wrong with her so I tried everything I could think of to try and get her up to a stable condition. I can't let another one die under my watch, not again. I took a clean rag from my subspace and wrapped the sparkling up. I had yet to fully see her colors since there was little to no light in the dark room. I felt a smaller servo touch mine. My attention snapped back down to the sparkling's carrier. She was ventilating roughly and hard, her optics giving off barely any light. Her bright color scheme had dulled considerably. Her jaw worked to form words. I leaned in closer to hear her.

"I won't be long..." It was lower than that of a whisper, tone raspy. What did she mean by-?

"She's yours now." Her fragile voice faded even more. No! She was not going to perish here! I have to get this femme back to base. Most of my tools are there. Frag!

Her servo moved slowly to rest on her sparkling's helm, rubbing it gently. Her sparkling stared at her in wonder.

"Tell me... what...is..." She fought hard to form every word in mouth, faceplates straining. She said more but I had to strain hard to hear her. Curse these audio receptors!

"...your... name..." It took me a moment to realize what she was asking of me. She was asking for my name. I shifted the sparkling over into one arm and rested my free servo on her small shoulder.

"My name is-" And just like that, she died.

"-Ratchet." I said sadly to the corpse. I vented and looked down at the sparkling looking back at me in the crook of my arm. Her carrier had not even given her a name, let alone told me her own name. My thoughts wondered back to the past. Back to the sparkling went on to join with Primus next to me on my berth. She looks so much like my little sparkling that died so long ago. I will keep her. She will not perish, not this time. I now know her name. I will name her after the little sparkling that once lived so many vorns ago.

Searchlight.

I stood slowly and walked out of the crashed vessel. A high-pitched sound rung painfully in my ears and the vessel blew. Burning metal and energon shot out into the sky, blinding me. I turned my back to the wall of fire and superheated steam blew past me, protecting the newborn sparkling. Searchlight cringed at the heat, pressing her shiny little faceplates into my chest.

"Ratchet to base, I need a Bridge, pronto!" I shouted into my comm link. Not even a second after I ended the transmission, a Ground Bridge portal appeared a few yards to my left. Cradling Searchlight, I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me through the waiting portal.

On the other side, I was bombarded with questions from the children and the other bots, with the exception of Optimus, who wore a very worried look on his faceplates. I ignored all of the questions and pushed my way over to my medbay. I want the scan Searchlight to be sure she was completely healthy.

"Ratchet, w-what are you carrying?" Rafael asked me quietly. I looked over at the child. Everyone else ceased their chatter and waited for me to answer the question. I vented.

"Her name is Searchlight." She looked up at the mention of her name, confirming to all of them that Searchlight was indeed her name. She looked around aimlessly, focusing on no one. Then she chirped, looking back up into my optics, drawing a loud 'awww' from the children and Bumblebee.

"OMG, you have a kid?! Who's the momma? Is it Arcee?" Miko asked excitedly, eyes glittering. Said femme growled loudly in response.

"No, the sparkling's carrier is not Arcee." I proceeded to tell them about the vessel I had found and the deceased femme.

"Are you sure nothing's wrong with her?" Bulkhead asked, staring hard at the sparkling. I scoffed. How could there be anything wrong with her? I already checked and found nothing wrong. Bulkhead stood right in front of me, looking down at the sparkling, who paid him no attention. She was staring blankly just past him. Almost as if...she saw nothing.

Our leader stepped towards me. I instinctively shifted, ready to protect her with all I had. I looked up at Optimus. There was a saddened, yet, serious look in his optics. What was going to tell me? I have only seen that look once before, and that was when Optimus made the decision to leave Cybertron. Something else that I could not quite put my finger on shone in his optics as well.

"Ratchet, Searchlight is blind."

**So how was that? Good? Ok? Horrible?**

**I adore the idea of sparklings, so... yeah.**

**I'm considering cooking up another story in order to continue this, so you got any ideas for me? Leave them in a review and I might use them!**

**Peace!**


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